Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1887-12-24
THE STORY OF THE TREE.
BY MRS. c. f. BAILEY.


scrap of furnished tinsel, its limbs
grotesquely ornamented with ill
shaped masses Of colored wax and
thrown upon waste heap together
with coal ashes and discarded tin
cans, what could have been more I'M
slightly than this old Christmas Tree.
But, for the good / know it must
have done, l staid my steps, med
itating on what its story might be,
when there came a rustling among
its dry branches, and a voice seemed
to come in answer to my thoughts.
And these were the words:
My home was away out yonder
where the white fields meet the
mountain. l can't tell how many
years my brothers and l spent play
ing with the Storm king and whist
ling in glee at his fercest blasts. But
there came time in our lives when
all was changed. An unknown en-
envy captured us and we were trans
ported to the pavement of a busy
stirring city. Groups of chattering
children about us, we learned our
mission. The spirit of the crowd
seemed impaired to us and we were
happy. But with the gladness came
pride and with pride dissension. Our
merits were discussed so often in our
hearing that we took up the subject,
and at times the debate became SO
animated that our limbs rustled with
anger. " | am finer than you !" "My
limbs are fuller !" "My form is more
perfect !" were heard so often that l
wonder any of us were chosen to bear
the gifts that should convey peace
and good will. Finally one of our
members, wiser than the others, pro-
posed that the matter should come to
an end. None of us could Judge cor
rectly of our own merits. The only
way was for each to perform the du-
ties that the strong power should lay
upon us, and then after the work was
completed, the festivities ended, we
should meet together, and each tell
ing his own story, the good accom-
plished should be the criterion of
merit. So our contentious ceased.
l had no pride. Mad frolics with
the wind when was too young to
know my strength, an ugly chip
from boys knife, and the persistent
crowding of an imperious tree, COM
bined to stun my growth, and so mar
red my beauty that l wondered my
self at being brought with my COM
panions.
Turned over and pushed from side
to side as my brothers were selected
and carried away jeered and laughed
over for my deformity, / of all, seem
ed the only one who would have no
story to tell. AT last / was left all
alone.
While wishing much that it might
be otherwise, a little carrier boy
with newspapers beneath his arm
came hurrying along his delivery
route. / caught his eye, and slacken.
ing his pace he looked at me so long.
ingly that had / but possessed the
power, should have stretched forth
my limbs. Then l heard him say;
"Oh If only / could! But we'el
so poor!"
Then with a suddenly changed
voice he added, 81 WILL" and turned
his steps and entered the store before
which 1 was stationed. He was gone
but moment. He returned in com
pany with a brisk little man who
was rubbing his hands good natured
ly and saying:
swell, if l were to sell it, it would
be a great deal more than you coult
pay, but you see l intend Il
giue it to you. And see here, my
boy" and his face just glowed wher
he said this, sis it a little sister tina
is to be made happy with that un
slightly thing? Well, come in some
time when you are at leisure. I SCI
you are man of business and w,
will talk the thing over, and may b,
find some things about the store Il
make the tree less ugly!"
The boy said "thank you," but hi
voice was so queer that looked VI
and found tears in his frank eyes.
"Tut! tut! my man." said the jol
ly grocer, ''that will never do
Shoulder your tree and march off,"
III must carry my papers first"
"All right! No danger of any on
stealing it, and I'll be sure and no
sell it,"
And so it came about that l fell in
to the hands of Tim Morrison, wa
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